Sam gripped his head,
watching his brother sleep.
Dean, always his protector, had made
the ultimate sacrifice for him. In just one year, one frickin'
year, he was going to hell. Sam wiped the angry tears from his eyes.
Dean had laughed it off when Sam had confronted him about it earlier
that night, but Sam could see right past it. Could see right past
Dean's macho frontage, and he what he could see was so damn scary
it was freaking him out.
Dean was walking a fine line between death, had been defying it since he was 12, but he might be too far gone to save. In front of Sam's eyes, Dean had fallen off the line of life and death, and was hanging by his fingertips in the last moments of his life.
Looking at Dean now,
SAM could see how close Dean was to loosing it, and he knew that if
Dean did, Sam wouldn't be able to cope. What would he do without
the only person that really understands him?
Kneading the headache
away, Sam sniffed and placed his forehead in his hands, resting his
elbows on his knees as he sat on the side of his bed.
Hell, they just killed
the yellow-eyed demon, that was something that he'd been wanting to
do from the very first time he learned that that demon had stolen the
only chance of Sam's to have a mother. And how did Mary actually
know the demon?
Shaking his head, Sam stood and walked to his
brothers side.
Dean was his only grip on reality, and if Dean broke, he would certainly break too. He was the glue holding the small Winchester family together, and if he came unstuck, Sam would spin off course until he was too long gone to be rescued.
Sam lowered his head, knelt by his brothers' bedside and prayed.
Prayed than they could be saved. They had given too much, nobody should have to give as much as they had, and he prayed that for once they could actually keep each other.
He prayed that the cure of the Winchester family wouldn't catch them, and that he would be able to enjoy life again.
To enjoy the precious little time he had with his brother.
FINISHED.